


Start of Something New

by queercapwriting (queergirlwriting)



Series: Of Chemicals and First Loves [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, FitzSimmons - Freeform, FitzSkimmons - Freeform, Poly, bioquake, my children, my tiny poly children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:50:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queergirlwriting/pseuds/queercapwriting
Summary: Daisy wants to know if Fitzsimmons have room in their relationship for one more.(Spoiler: they do.)





	Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> this fic comes from a prompt over on my tumblr (queercapwriting)
> 
> toopainfulthislove asked:
> 
> Heyyy uhh Cap? Any chance we could get a Fitzskimmons fic? Please? (smut would be a nice side bonus)

Daisy is the first to ask.

Fitz chokes on his beer and Jemma is bright red as she thumps his back with the palm of her hand.

“Should I have waited until you weren’t actively drinking something?” Daisy raises her eyebrows before tilting her head and furrowing her brow. “That… wasn’t meant to be a pun. Unless you want it to be.”

That definitely doesn’t help Fitz stop choking.

It makes it worse, really.

Jemma is the first to recover.

“If your object was to make Fitz choke, Daisy, then you’ve done a brilliant job. As for the rest. You’re going to have to define what you mean. By open.”

Jemma’s voice is low and just this side of dangerous, and Daisy doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or a terrible, friendship-ruining one, but hell. Today had been a day where they’d all almost died, again, and the next time that happens - and she knows there will be a next time, probably sooner than later - she doesn’t want to wonder what could have been different if she’d been just a little bit braver.

“It could mean whatever you guys want it to mean. I know you two are each other’s endgame. I don’t wanna mess with that. But I thought. If you’d be open to it. If I could be a part of that. Because,” she gathers courage as she watches Jemma’s pupils dilate and Fitz still struggling to form breath. “Let’s be real. Fitz, you’re not exactly subtle about your crushes, and I know you’ve had one for me since the beginning of time.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” Fitz tries and fails to scoff. “I haven’t even existed as a corporeal, discrete Fitz-being since the beginning of time, so -”

Both women ignore him affectionately as Daisy turns to Jemma.

“And Jemma, come on. We both know, right? Don’t we? I’m crazy out of my mind sometimes, sure, but not because of this. There’s something else, in our friendship. Not better or worse, but… else. Isn’t there?”

She sounds like she’ll be fine, whatever Jemma says. She sounds like she’ll laugh a rejection off and grab more beers for all of them so they can chortle together about what a fool she’d made of herself.

But Jemma knows better. She knows Daisy better.

Which is not, for the record, why she says what she says.

She says what she says because Daisy is absolutely right.

“There is. I think there’s always been.”

It comes out like a whisper, and Fitz, suddenly sober, reaches to cover her hand with his supportively. 

They’ve talked about Daisy - of course they’ve talked about Daisy - their best friend, who both of them would die for, who both of them would live for. And who both of them have had a wild crush on since, despite Fitz’s technical objections, time immemorial.

“Fitz?” Daisy asks, because now they’re past joking.

He doesn’t know how to speak, just now, so he nods. Jemma nods along with him.

“It’s not like we haven’t talked about it. About you. And… openness. Fitz and me. But with everything that’s happened.” She steadies herself. “With Lincoln. We didn’t want to -”

“Take advantage,” Fitz provides, and he’s so earnest - they’re both so earnest - that Daisy has to look away.

“You never could,” she tells them both, even though they all know they live the kinds of lives that don’t allow for nevers.

“So um. Where does that leave us? Now?”

“We’ll take it slow, I guess? Feel things out, learn each other in a new context?”

Fitz and Daisy smile at each other. Always Jemma with a plan.

Their Jemma, maybe, now.

Daisy had never felt what it was like to belong somewhere, to belong with people.

Until Coulson and May. Until these two.

And now they’re looking at her like maybe she belongs in more ways than one, more ways than teammate and friend, and even though she’s the one who brought it up, she thinks she might collapse under the weightless weight of it.

“I’m not good at taking things slow,” Daisy tells them, because it’s true, and because Jemma’s kind and thoughtful, but she already knows.

“No,” Jemma whispers, kissing Fitz’s hand before letting it go and taking both of Daisy’s into hers, standing her up and bringing them into each other’s space. “No, you’re not, are you?”

It’s a whisper, and it’s a promise, and with another confirming glance at Fitz, Jemma kisses her.

It’s slow but it’s open, tentative but completely, utterly sure.

Daisy melts into it, into her, and finally her hands are in Jemma’s hair and her tongue is in Jemma’s mouth and how did she not know before this that Jemma tastes like cinnamon?

She doesn’t know how much time passes before she dimly realizes - before they both realize - that Fitz is still seated, still distinctly not where they are.

They pull away from each other and bring their foreheads together, Daisy not used to being this kind of shy, this kind of breathless, and loving it more than she’s ready to admit. 

They giggle together, soft and almost bashful, Daisy placing a kiss on Jemma’s nose before they both - foreheads still touching, bodies still flush together, arms still around each other, turn to Fitz.

He’s both watching and not, breathing and not. He’s half smiling and he looks like he might cry, and when Jemma asks if he’s alright, he sighs.

“‘m just happy,” he says, because it’s the most honest answer he has, and he always wants to be honest with these women he loves more than anything in the world.

“Come be happy over here then,” Daisy invites. Jemma’s laugh is soft, but it turns into a bit of a snort when Fitz stands so quickly he nearly knocks over his chair.

“Didn’t want to intrude,” he murmurs, but Jemma and Daisy are both shaking their heads. 

“How could you intrude when this is literally about three people caring for each other?” Jemma asks him, carefully not using the word love. 

Not yet. 

Not until Daisy does.

Because she and Fitz know exactly how they feel - for each other, and hell, for Daisy - but she wants to give Daisy the choice of when to say it, how to say it.

Always a choice.

“Dunno, I suppose I didn’t want to be creepy or -”

“Fitz,” Daisy kisses Jemma’s mouth again, soft, chaste, before turning to Fitz, nerves and reverence meeting bemusement and excitement in her eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Is that gonna make you choke again, or -”

“No, nope, I’m good, good to go, ready for whatever you -”

His lips are softer than she’d expected them to be, and his tongue is just as expert as his hands, his fingers are, even now, even after the ocean.

Daisy doesn’t think of herself as someone who is even capable of swooning, but even she might have to admit that she does.

“Fuck,” she murmurs into his mouth, running her hands through his hair with one hand and reaching for Jemma with the other.

“Not yet,” Fitz chuckles back as he switches to kissing her neck, and yep, she’s definitely swooning this time.

None of the three of them notice when May and Coulson step into the rec room, when they stop at the door with their jaws on the ground - well, Coulson’s is, anyway, because May’s facial expression registers almost nothing - and back away slowly.

May holds out her hand as they walk away, a pleased smirk now forming on her face. 

Coulson slips her a ten, because of course she won that bet, and her smile only gets bigger.


End file.
